


At Swordpoint

by Misachan



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Desert Island Fic, Frottage, M/M, Slash, Sparring, Swordplay, Treat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 01:25:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,743
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1100785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Misachan/pseuds/Misachan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ollie and Slade do some sword training. It goes about the way you'd expect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	At Swordpoint

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Savageseraph](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Savageseraph/gifts).



> Happy Yuletide!

Ollie pressed himself up against the fuselage wall, his chin raised. Much scarier things than Slade Wilson holding the tip of a sword inches from his throat had already happened to Ollie on this island.

Okay. Maybe not _much_ scarier. "So why are we doing this, again?" Ollie said and _God_ , did he wish his voice hadn't cracked in the middle of that.

"Need a target," Slade said, shifting to hold one of the swords over his head in a stance Ollie was sure had some fancy name. "Drills are all well and good but shadowboxing only works for so long." He swung the sword, stopping short an inch from Ollie's jugular. Ollie heard Slade chuckle when he flinched. "Nervous?"

"Well, y'know. Crazy person swinging a sword at me."

"If I'd wanted to cut you I would've," Slade said, something not nearly as reassuring as he seemed to think. As if to underscore that Slade pressed the edge of the blade against Ollie's skin. "Now hold still."

If he were to be honest Ollie didn't really mind being serving as a breathing target dummy. Fewer bruises than Slade's usual training methods for one thing. And anyway, this particular exercise wasn't really about training Ollie at all. The bullet wound in Slade's arm had just about healed to nothing but a nasty scar and a recurring nightmare; there'd been a period early on when they hadn't been sure whether the infection had damaged the bone and how much weakness there Slade would have to learn to live with. If Slade wanted revel a little in his miraculous recovery Ollie guessed he couldn't blame him.

Ollie had gone through a phase as a teenager when he'd collected swords – movie props mostly, because it took work to find enough things to spend his allowance on – but he'd never bothered to learn how to use any of them. Not that he'd ever have been able to muster the discipline to get anywhere near Slade's skill level. The guy moved like a machine, like the swords were extensions of his arms, and Ollie knew that it was just as well he'd been conscripted into service that morning because he'd just be watching Slade anyway.

After another pass where one of the swords swung close enough to Ollie's head to sever a few strands of hair Slade paused; he was just a shade out of breath and looked frustrated as hell about it. He rolled his right shoulder like his arm was going stiff, shaking his head, then to Ollie's surprise offered him one of the swords, holding the left-handed one hilt first. "You want a try?"

"Um. What?" Slade shook his head again and Ollie felt himself blush. Slade had the uncanny ability to inspire Ollie to say the stupidest possible things sometimes. He did take the sword though, testing the balance the way he'd seen people do in the movies."Why, I mean."

"Like I said, drills only go so far." He flourished the sword still gripped in his right hand, letting tip get uneccessarily close to Ollie's face. This time he'd managed to keep from flinching and he saw Slade's lips twitch up, like a phantom acknowledgement. Slade took a step back, setting one foot back in a defensive stance. "Come at me, then."

Ollie glanced down at the blade in his hand for a second, then back at Slade. "Really?"

Slade was the only person Ollie'd ever met who could scoff with his entire body. "If I can't fight you off there's no hope."

Ollie was tempted try to flourish the sword around too but thought better of it; he circled Slade for a few seconds, trying to figure out a plan of attack. He made a little half-lunge at Slade, which was easily countered. It wasn't long before Slade was the one circling, stalking Ollie like an amused tiger. "I was hoping for at least _some_ fight out of you," Slade said, parrying another of Ollie's clumsy attacks. 

The next few seconds were a combination of incompetence and pure, stupid luck; Ollie realized he'd overstepped on his attack and stutterstepped back to correct himself. When Slade tried to parry the "attack" it threw him off balance too; Ollie was too close for Slade to catch himself and he went down hard, Ollie falling too when he tried to catch Slade on reflex. Ollie wound up on top of him, the sword still in his hand angled toward Slade's throat as perfectly as if he'd planned it the entire time. After a second of silence Slade spoke first. "Point for you, then."

"First time for everything, right?" He pressed the edge of the blade to the side of Slade's neck, just the way Slade had done to him earlier. A sane person would tense up from that; instead Slade lifted his chin just a fraction, lips parting in a way that was _distracting_.

"You gonna let me up?" Slade said, dark eyes watching Ollie from hooded lids.

Ollie didn't think he was going to do that just yet. He shifted position, moving to straddle across Slade's waist. Feeling Slade breathing beneath him was pretty distracting too. "You seem kinda out of practice. Maybe you should make me."

Slade grinned at the dare, that quick manic smile Ollie still wasn't used to, then with a quick roll of his hips leveraged Ollie off and was back on his feet before Ollie knew what had happened. He scrambled back as Slade swung his sword right at his face, getting back to his feet and only tripping once. Slade was done playing with him, backing him right up against the wall. "Point for me," he said, running the tip of the sword down Ollie's chest. Ollie tried to take Slade down again but he sidestepped, letting Ollie run past and then tripping him. Ollie rolled himself over to his back to see Slade standing over him, tip of his sword coming down to press against the hollow of Ollie's throat. "Two points for me."

Staying still seemed like the best plan. Slade moved to stand over him, that grin back on his face. "You giving up?"

Ollie grabbed his leg and pulled, which must have surprised the hell out of Slade because it actually worked; Slade fell backward and Ollie pressed the advantage, getting back on top of him. "Think we're all tied up now."

Ollie felt Slade's hand on his thigh, moving up inch by very slow inch. "That what you think?"

Slade was breathing hard and the little rasp that put in his voice hit Ollie deep and low. "I think you're looking a little tired."

Slade's hand was on his hip now. "I think you're looking a little distracted." And with that he rolled Ollie all the way over, slamming him hard to his back and putting the sword back to the side of his throat. Slade took the moment to loom over him, savoring his victory, then he pressed his thigh between Ollie's legs. " _Defintitely_ a little too distracted, kid," he said, grinding against him. 

Ollie didn't point out that Slade didn't look like the model of focus himself, mostly because he wasn't about to give Slade any reason to stop. "Let me up," he said, purely for show.

And Slade knew it. " _Make me_." He drew the blade of the sword against Ollie's skin, just hard enough that Ollie felt it scratch. Slade leaned down and licked up the path of the scratch, his breath so hot against Ollie's skin that he couldn't stifle down the groan. "Say that I win."

"Not...giving up just yet," Ollie said and there was that grin again. Using his free hand Slade slid Ollie's pants down past his hips; Ollie closed his eyes as he felt those calloused fingers tease up his inner thighs for a few torturous seconds before finally wrapping around his shaft.

"Say it," Slade whispered into his ear, voice pitched low as he worked up the length of Ollie's shaft. 

The cold steel at his neck combined with the heat of Slade pressed against him was rapidly taking away his ability to say anything at all. He realized he'd managed to keep hold of the second sword and reached up with it, putting the blunt edge to the back of Slade's neck. Just a little bit of pressure was enough to pull Slade down into a messy kiss and Ollie grabbed a handful of Slade's hair with his other hand to keep him there. That earned Ollie a deep moan from Slade, better than winning a thousand sparring matches; Ollie dropped the sword and slid one hand down Slade's pants, easing them down. Ollie needed skin-to-skin and Slade seemed to agree, positioning himself for maximum contact. The sensation of Slade's cock against his own was almost enough to make Ollie come right then and there; he arched his back, grinding up and getting rewarded with another groan. Slade started sucking on Ollie's neck, right on the pulse point and more than hard enough to leave bruises.

Ollie wasn't sure which of them came first. He _did_ know that he came so hard the climax shot through his legs and up his spine, his hands clutching onto Slade so hard he left nail marks in his shoulders. Not that Slade seemed to mind; he was too busy shaking against Ollie, limp and wrung out and moaning softly into Ollie's skin. Ollie tipped Slade's chin up and kissed him, running his other hand down Slade's back, tracing the path of his spine. "Let's call it a draw, huh?"

"Maybe," Slade allowed. He pinned Ollie's wrists above his head and licked along the hollow of his throat; Ollie stretched out beneath him, already starting to roll his hips. As much as he complained about Slade's training methods there could definitely be a few upsides. When Slade kissed him it was barely a brush of his lips, a promise and threat at the same time. "Let's see how you do in round two," he whispered into Ollie's ear, the heat of Slade's breath making him shiver. 

"I'll win in a walk," Ollie said, afterglow making him reckless.

Slade tightened the grip on Ollie's wrists just enough that Ollie already felt himself getting hard again. "You're gonna regret saying that."

Ollie didn't bother hiding his grin. There was only one thing to say to that. "Make me."


End file.
